poetry

...poetry is paying attention to life when all the world seems asleep to its beauties and truths...

Be aware of the high notes, of the blissful faces and their soft messages, and listen for the silent message of a highly decorated gift.

some winterswill never meltsome summerswill never freezeand some things will only... live in poems.

we inhale life and exhale words. that's just what writers' do--

One clear moment, one of trance One missed step, one perfect dance One missed shot, one and only chance Life is all...but one fleeting glance.

Words rich in meaning can be cheap in sound effects.

There is no competition of sounds between a nightingale and a violin.

Each person you meetis an aspect of yourself,clamoring for love.

A lie is still a lieeven if it__ disguisedas the truth.

Wordsare powerfulforces of nature.they are destruction.they are nourishment. they are flesh. they are water.they are flowers and bone.they burn. they cleansethey erase. they etch. they can eitherleave youfeelinghomelessor brimmingwith home.

Great struggles make for great stories.

Bankrupt"One midnight, deep in starlight still,I dreamed that I received this bill:(- - - - IN ACCOUNT WITH LIFE - - - -):Five thousand breathless dawns all new;Five thousand flowers fresh in dew;Five thousand sunsets wrapped in gold;One-million snow-flakes served ice-cold;Five quiet friends; one baby's love;One white-mad sea with clouds above;One hundred music-haunted dreamsOf moon-drenched roads and hurrying streams;Of prophesying winds, and trees;Of silent stars and browsing bees;One June night in a fragrant wood;One heart that loved and understood.I wondered when I waked at day,How__ow in God's name__ could pay!

...all my life I prayed to a star _ Later discovered it was Venus _ I was praying to Aphrodite and wondering why she was sending me you -sad...

COMING FORTH INTO THE LIGHTI was born the dayI thought:What is?What was?AndWhat if?I was transformed the dayMy ego shattered,And all the superficial, materialThings that matteredTo me before,Suddenly ceasedTo matter.I really came into beingThe day I no longer cared aboutWhat the world thought of me,Only on my thoughts forChanging the world.

I beg you, help me, in angelic charity,Pray my efforts will reflect your mastery!

If you love me, Henry, you don__ love me in a way I understand.

Prayer is a many fingeredand kaleidoscopic thing__t foldsand unfolds inside of you. It entersthe many rooms you cannot enter.

A Strange Prayer:Dear Lord, I, the self searching illusion, has seen and experienced the outer world:relationships,success and failure,true friends, strangers and backbiters.I lived the different emotionsduring different seasons;I witnessed ups & downs,enjoyed love & hate,was good & bad,faced beauty & ugliness.There were times when I was brave,there were times when I was a coward.There were times when I was proactive,there were times when I was indecisive.After, flying high in the skies,and yet being a loser...After, being nothing & no one,and yet feeling content..I have understood the differencebetween lust and love,happiness and sadness,selfishness and selflessness.One often leads to another;another secretly carries the one!Yet I am lostbetween being and becoming.An inner voice admits thatmy heart is an unexplored realm,my mind is a prisoner to my wishful thinking,and the soul is unknown to me.Setting that unknown free... now, this is my heartiest wish.As Saurabh Sharma,the human being,Ialwayspray to thee, " O lord, set me free.I don't want love,I don't want to be loved;I want myself to be love itself now.That beautiful, silent and divine existence...!I want to get merged into that.Please give me wisdom and courage; Merge me into your supreme kingdom by setting my soul free.